Jabir laughed and smacked the back of her thighs.
She placed her hand at his waist then slid her fingers just under his shirt so they pressed to his lower back.
Ivy had listened to the team explaining the ring to her. The important part had stuck with her.
She would have two chances and for best effect she needed as much contact with the target as possible. Given Jabir’s body size, Ivy assumed she’d need a hell of a lot of contact.
The elevator reached the top floor. Her stomach did a little flip-flop.
Jabir staggered.
Shit.
Was that the drunkenness or whatever magic woo-woo juice was in the ring?
She didn’t let up. Worst-case scenario she could drag his body into the bedroom.
The world pitched right then left as Jabir carried her off the elevator.
His stride wasn’t as steady as it had been.
Ivy took her hand away.
How far was his room?
Jabir stopped and she heard the soft whish of a door opening.
This was her stop and where this charade ended.
He carried her a few steps into the room then bent. She kicked off her shoes before sliding to her feet. She kept one hand on him, both to steady herself and so she could have a grip on him if she needed to.
Jabir wavered and shook his head.
“What’s wrong?” she asked and lifted her left hand to press against his brow.
“I don’t...” He shook his head.
“Maybe you should lie down?” She glanced around. A sofa was only a few feet away. “On the sofa?”
“No. I want my bed,” he said.
“Are you sure?” The bedroom was through another door. At best it was a twenty foot walk.
She wasn’t sure he’d make it.
The first step went well, but the next Jabir staggered. He caught himself on a table, but in the process knocked a vase on the ground.
Ivy winced and ignored it.
“Come on,” she said.
Maybe the drugs were accelerating whatever it was in the ring?
She didn’t think he’d need another hit of that.
Ivy caught him under the arm, careful to keep her left hand open.
“Careful,” she cooed.
“What’s wrong with me?” Jabir muttered.
“You partied pretty hard today. I tried to get you to drink more water. Come on, let’s get you in bed.” She kept her voice comforting. With no idea how much he’d remember tomorrow, she didn’t want to screw herself in case tonight didn’t yield enough results.
At the door to the bedroom Jabir paused, gripping the doorframe. She took that moment to twist the ring closed.
“I don’t...feel right,” he muttered.
“Yousef said you didn’t look good. He wanted me to get you in bed.” She stroked his brow. “Just a little farther, okay?”
She eyed the distance to the bed.
If he made it that far, it would be a miracle.
Just what the hell was in the ring?
12.
Tuesday. Jabir al Saud’s Home. Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.
Killam was going to kill Jabby. The question was, would it happen fast or slow?
Watching him with Ivy all day had slowly unhinged Killam to the point that he couldn’t make polite conversation. He nodded to a few people as he exited the dining hall. People were beginning to move from food to other entertainments, and given the number of joints being passed around, tonight would likely be pretty chill.
Too bad he had no chill. Not even a little bit.
He hadn’t seen Ivy in five minutes.
She was so damn confident she could handle Jabby, but he’d seen her today. Even when he hadn’t wanted to look, he’d seen. The touches. The slight panic she tried to cover up.
It had taken everything in him to not blow their cover.
Ivy had done the best job possible at every turn. It didn’t change the fact that she should never have been asked to do this in the first place.
When this was over, Killam was going to have a long, ugly chat with this Zora Clark.
There were other ways to get what she wanted.
He stepped into the shadows farther down the hall and pulled out his phone. Anyone looking would assume he’d needed to have a private moment. He’d spent some time on the phone to an old contact earlier, someone who understood what it was like to work in the field with a frustrating partner. Granted, Gabriel Ortiz was married to his partner,, so it was a little different. Still, it had been nice to bounce ideas off someone else.
Killam peered at his screen.
There weren’t any messages.
He wished there was something.
His man had said his team was working on giving him that diversion, still Killam doubted he’d get any sort of warning. But he’d known going into this crazy scheme that the one thing he’d have to give up was when things happened.
Killam glanced over his shoulder.
There were fewer people around now. This was as good an opening as he was going to get.
He strode down the hall, further into the shadows, then around the corner.
The doors to Jabby’s wing of the house were shut. No guards barred the way.
It was foolish in Killam’s mind to think that this wing of the house was protected by reputation alone. He couldn’t be the first person who’d snuck into Jabby’s private quarters. It did work in Killam’s favor, though.
He spared one last glance at the hall behind him, then stepped over the threshold.
Jabby’s arrogance would be the death of him someday, but probably not today.
The door shut silently, sealing him into this wing.
Killam pressed his hand to his hip. While he couldn’t get away with carrying an actual gun in the house, he’d made sure to conceal a sizeable knife. If they got into trouble, it would be their only protection.
He opted to not use the elevator and instead climbed the four flights of stairs, taking them two and three at a time. Each floor he paused to listen for movement before proceeding.
They were well and truly alone in this wing.
Good for him. Bad for Jabby.
Killam reached the fourth floor. He barely spared a glance up and down the hall before jogging for the master suite.
How much time had passed since Ivy left? Twenty minutes? What if Killam had taken too long?
He pulled the door open and immediately saw the overturned vase.
Killam went still, straining to hear anything.
Silence.
Were they even here?
He pulled the knife from his belt and crept along the wall toward the doors leading into Jabby’s bedroom.
What if Jabby had taken her to one of the guest rooms? Or the lounge? Or any number of other rooms in this fucking house?
Desperation made him advance faster.
Ivy was a badass, but every badass ran into a situation they couldn’t handle.
The bedroom doors were almost shut. Just a tiny crack left it ajar, and he couldn’t see anything other than a slice of dimly lit wall.
Killam swallowed and reached out with his left hand, pushing the door open slightly.
A white blur moved, striking out at him. Gold hair glinted. He managed to dodge, barely.
“Ivy! Damn it.” He gasped for breath and stared at her.
Ivy’s wide eyes and furrowed brow were at least normal. She’d given him that, what the hell, look enough it was even one of his favorites.
She’d hiked the flowing skirt of her white dress up, tying the ends around her waist so it was easier to move. Her hair was up and one strap of her bodice was broken. She held a statuette in her hand as if it were a weapon.
Ivy was amazing.
“If you’re here you can help,” she said and turned, pushing the doors open.
Killam grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him. It wasn’t a conscious action, it was need. He had to know she was oka
y. He needed her. After holding back, letting her play this role, he had to have this moment.
“Piers—what?”
He wrapped an arm around her waist. Her hands flattened against his chest and she stared up at him with that annoyed, haughty expression that had irritated him in the beginning. Now, he was so damn relieved to see it.
Questions were on the tip of his tongue.
How are you?
Are you okay?
Were you hurt?
Instead, he bent his head and kissed her. She leaned into him and he felt her sigh.
Everything would be okay. She was okay. He didn’t know how he knew, he just did.
A hard, swift punch to his kidney stopped all thought for a second.
“What the hell?” Ivy grumbled. “Now is not the time. Jesus. Come help me.”
Killam rubbed his side and grinned.
She had a point. He knew she did, and yet, he’d kiss her again if the opportunity presented itself. He was past the point where he could write last night off as a fluke. It hadn’t been. There was something between them, and until this was over, he wasn’t going to deny it.
He followed her into the bedroom. Just inside the door, he stopped in his tracks.
“What the hell?” he asked.
She sighed and gestured at the mostly undressed Jabby lying face down on the bed with one leg dangling off. “Give me a hand?”
Killam glanced behind him.
Jabby must have been much farther gone than Killam realized.
The two of them must have come into the suite, Jabby staggered around...
“The sedative worked a lot faster and better than I expected it to.” Ivy crawled onto the bed and grabbed Jabby’s arm.
“What are you doing?” Killam asked.
She sighed heavily. “Help or leave.”
Killam closed the distance, grabbed Jabby’s leg, and together they rolled the guy onto his back.
“My plan is to undress him, put him in bed, leave some lipstick smeared around and maybe a shoe, then get the hell out of here.” She pulled Jabby’s belt from the loops, then tossed the leather designer belt over her shoulder.
“I’ll do this.” Killam nudged her away.
The last thing he wanted right now was Ivy taking off another man’s pants. If Killam had to do it instead, well, he’d done weirder things.
“Great.” She dug between her breasts and produced a tube of lipstick.
For a moment he watched in fascination as she rubbed her lips together, then bent.
“What...?” Killam opened and closed his mouth.
She planted a kiss on Jabby’s neck.
Killam was going to murder the man. Skin him alive.
He closed his eyes and took a breath.
No, he wouldn’t do any of that, but he damn well wanted to.
Ivy crawled off the bed. “I need to get started on his phone.”
“Do that.” Killam gave himself a mental shake, then reached for Jabby’s pants.
This was going down as one of the stranger things he’d ever done in the name of the job, that was for sure.
Killam left Jabby’s underwear on, then rolled him under the blankets.
Lipstick was smeared on one pillow.
There was one high heel poking out from under the bed. Its companion was by the door.
Ivy stood with her back to him, two phones in hand.
“I’m going to need to do a fingerprint scan, too,” she said.
“Do I want to know where you were hiding that?” Killam knew phones were contraband outside of the women’s wing, and he hadn’t seen it on her all night.
“Modified thigh holster. Duh.”
He chuckled and shook his head.
“It’s going.” She set the two phones down carefully and backed away. “Anyone see you come up here?”
“No.”
“Good.” She turned to face him. Her gaze studied his face, starting at his hairline and working down to his chin. “Are you mad at me or something?”
“No.”
“Okay,” she said slowly.
“You have been doing your job. You’ve been pretty damn good at it.” He glanced back at Jabby. “Doesn’t mean I have to like what it makes you do.”
One side of her mouth hitched up. “This is some alpha dude routine then?”
He swallowed.
Killam didn’t get involved with people. His life was too messy for that, but the truth was the truth. His feelings for Ivy, this connection, it compromised him.
“Yeah. I guess so,” he said.
Her smile vanished. “I want to laugh and joke about this, but the truth is today was hard.”
And he’d barged in here and kissed her like an idiot staking his claim.
Killam winced.
The phone beeped.
“Finally.” She whirled and unhooked her phone from Jabby’s. “If that went right, we should have a real-time backdoor into his phone and everything.”
That was a big step. Killam had never managed that.
“What’s your next move?” He held Jabby’s hand so Ivy could use another app to scan Jabby’s fingers.
“For now? Sneak out of here.” She shuddered. “I need a shower. Any word on your contact?”
“No.” Killam grimaced. “I talked to him for maybe a minute earlier today but couldn’t get a promise out of him.”
“Damn.” She sighed. “I would—”
The lights flickered.
The AC clicked off.
Every light in the room winked out.
“Holy shit,” Killam whispered. “He did it. That mother fucker did it.”
“Are you sure?” Ivy asked.
There wasn’t time to second guess or ask.
This was their window. A fucking perfect timing window like Killam had never seen before.
He grabbed Ivy’s hand. They had to make the most of this. There wouldn’t be a second opportunity.
“You need anything else?” Killam asked as they began to move by the light of her cellphone’s flashlight.
“I shouldn’t.”
They sprinted for the door.
From the first blip, time had begun ticking down. They had ten or fifteen minutes before the generators would come online. But before then, Yousef would undoubtedly come check on Jabby. If they had any suspicion whatsoever that Ivy was to blame for his unconsciousness, she’d be in real trouble.
If this worked, they had to leave. Tonight. Now.
Killam wasn’t willing to risk Ivy further.
That meant a trip up to his room to grab the bag he’d put together, then out to the garage. It was a lot of ground to cover, especially when they could be persona non grata. He had no doubt they’d be executed swiftly were they caught.
Why had he ever agreed to this?
They paused on the second floor landing. Ivy had her head tilted and the light on the phone turned down.
Still no voices, but they could hear the party. All those drunk and high fools left in the darkness would help stall things.
“We go quick and we go now,” Killam said.
Ivy sighed. “Shouldn’t that be my line? Come on.”
Together they descended to the first floor.
Still no one entered the wing. All was dark.
Killam resisted the urge to pull Ivy back and allow him to go first. He had the knife, after all. But she wasn’t wrong. This was her op. He was backup. As much as it went against his nature, he held back, following her into the darkened closet that opened up onto the basement.
He said a silent prayer as they crept down the stairs. They couldn’t be wrong. The servers had to be down here. There was nowhere else for them to be.
They weren’t half down the stairs when something clicked and whirring began.
“Shit,” Killam muttered. “Go.”
The security camera was still dark, but if generators were coming back online, how long did they have?
Ivy leaped down the last
of the stairs and was gone, moving far faster than Killam. The hall was maybe twenty-five feet long and ended abruptly. There was one door. Ivy opened it and stepped inside, Killam crowding in behind her.
While the hall and security camera remained dark, tiny pinpricks of light broke up the darkness here. The room had the unmistakable smell of recycled hair. It was cold enough he shivered.
Something beeped louder.
“This is it. Holy shit,” Ivy muttered.
The server room, hidden away under Jabby’s home.
It really did exist.
“I need to find a terminal. Something to plug into.” Ivy turned up the phone brightness and began moving through the racks.
“You know what you’re doing?” Killam was good with tech, but this was far beyond his skills.
“They walked me through this so many times I can do it in my sleep. Keep watch, okay?”
Killam wished he’d dared pack a gun instead of the knife. He knew the knife was the smarter weapon given the close quarters and the need to act fast and be quiet. But there was something comforting about the weight of a firearm.
The seconds ticked by. He heard a flurry of taps. A keyboard? There wasn’t any cursing,, so he figured all was well.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“I’ve got the connection going. I’m just skimming the most recent messages. Looks like Jabir backs up all company phones here. I’m not even sure these people know their devices are being monitored.”
Not Killam’s problem. “How much longer?”
“I don’t know,” Ivy said slowly. “Oh. Oh, shit. Shit. Piers?”
The notes of alarm had him whirling. Where was she?
He found her on the second row, standing at a tiny screen and keyboard. The green light made her horrified face seem to glow.
“What? What is it?” He peered over her shoulder.
She lifted a finger, tracing the line of text. “It’s from Yousef to...Zak?”
Ivy was reading Arabic.
He hadn’t known she understood it, much less read it.
“Can you understand this? Because I don’t trust myself right now.” Her voice shook.
“Zak tested an air-borne delivery system on the plane. You weren’t wrong. Yousef cleared some sort of payment.” He tapped the bottom. “Good luck next week in DC.”
“Holy mother fucking shit balls,” Ivy said.
Necessary Risk (Aegis Group Task Force Book 4) Page 17
